


Lost in Time

by scifishipper



Series: Lost In Time [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Friendship, Gen, Jim gets frustrated, M/M, Nyota is helpful, One-Sided Relationship, Spock Prime is awesome, Spock tries to apply logic and fails, canon-compliant character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim rescues Captain Pike from the Narada and finds another long-held prisoner on board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chosenfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chosenfire/gifts).



> A canon-divergent take on 2009 Star Trek. I've taken liberties with timelines, events, and Nero's backstory. Enjoy! :)

The snow and wind on Delta Vega whipped against Jim’s face, and he tightened his coat’s collar. The elder Spock walked alongside him, slightly slower in his pace, but keeping up well for an old Vulcan from the future. Jim’s thoughts were chaotic and emotional. He was already an emotional kind of guy, but now his mind was flooded with a new set of memories and feelings that weren’t his. Or were they? Well, some of them were.

As the pair walked, Spock was mostly silent, save the questions he asked Jim about his life. Jim, in turn, asked one or two questions about his mother and father. He’d stopped asking when the other reality sounded so much better than his that it had started to hurt. It seemed like the other Jim Kirk had had it all, while Nero had ensured that he would have an out-of-touch mother, a drunken stepfather, and a chip on his shoulder for most of his life. The other Kirk’s life just made his feel worse. 

Shivering and cold, they arrived at the outpost, and with the help of the engineer, Scotty, made a plan to return to the Enterprise.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Jim asked the elder Spock as they were preparing to try the transwarp beaming.

“No, Jim. That is not my destiny.” 

Jim gaped at him. “Your dest-. He- the other Spock is not going to believe me. Only you can explain what the hell’s happened.”

Spock interrupted. “Under no circumstances can he be made aware of my existence. You must promise me this.”

“You’re telling me I can’t tell you that I am following your own orders? Why not? What happens?”

“Jim, this is one rule you cannot break.”

Spock convinced Jim of the need to stay silent, but insisted that he take command of the Enterprise. His method would not be pleasant. He couldn’t imagine the weight of what his Spock had gone through, but he understood the emotional compromise. It wasn’t his planet, but the heaviness of it, of what Spock had shared with him through the meld, hurt his insides. He’d do what he had to do.

~*~

Cupcake and two other security officers pushed Kirk and dripping-wet Scotty toward the bridge. As soon as they emerged from the turbolift, Spock began to interrogate them. Undaunted, Kirk immediately started to insult the Vulcan commander. He dug deep, accessing the memories and feelings of the elder Spock, his deep love for his mother, his regret at being the cause of Nero’s actions, anything he could spew to get a rise out of the Vulcan.

Only briefly did Jim believe it had been a mistake to taunt the Vulcan. As his consciousness had begun to blacken around the edges, Jim thought that, maybe, he had underestimated Spock’s willingness to kill him when his rage finally surfaced. When Spock withdrew his hands from Jim’s throat, it had left him gasping for air and reeling from what he had done. 

The bridge stood in stunned silence as Spock resigned his command and Jim took the Captain’s chair. It had been Sulu who’d supported him while Bones and Uhura made their feelings clear. Jim wished he could talk about the elder Spock and make the crew stop glaring at him. Fuck. This was never how he’d wanted to achieve command. It stank.

With no choice remaining, Jim announced the mission change to the ship and ordered Sulu to reverse course.

~*~

The bridge of the Enterprise hummed with energy, each member working at full capacity to find a way onto Nero’s ship. Jim refereed arguments between with Bones, Sulu, and Uhura until Chekov interrupted. “Keptin, Keptin Kirk.”

Jim turned, giving his attention to the navigator. Chekov laid out his plan and Jim was surprised when Commander Spock appeared on the bridge. His face was calm and pale, with no sign of the rage he had expressed just a few hours ago. Jim felt a surge of affection for the Vulcan. He didn’t regret what he had done, but it had hurt nonetheless.

“If Mr. Sulu is able to maneuver us into position, I can beam aboard Nero’s ship, steal back the black hole device, and if possible, bring back Captain Pike.”

Jim shook his head. There was no way Spock could do it alone. “I won’t allow you to do that, Mr. Spock.”

“Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry. The cultural similarity will make it easier for me to access the ships computer to locate the device,” Spock said. 

It was perfectly logical, but Jim was not swayed.

“Also, my mother was human, which makes Earth the only home I have left.” 

Jim considered a moment, gratified at last that he could figure out the motivations of the Commander. Jim stepped forward and spoke, “Then I am coming with you.”

Spock cocked his head. “I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it.” 

Jim snorted a laugh and smiled a little. The elder Spock’s words came back to him, about a friendship the two of them would one day have. Here, for the first time, he began to believe it might be possible. Jim clapped Spock on the shoulder. 

“See, we are getting to know each other.”

~*~

Equipped with a phaser and communicator, Jim arrived at the transporter and stepped onto the pad. He blinked, befuddled by what he saw next to him. He’d had no idea that Uhura and Spock were in a relationship. When the hell did that happen? Along with his confusion, he also sensed a vague feeling of betrayal, clearly not his own, and the dawning realization that the elder Spock and the other Jim Kirk had been decidedly more than friends. _Shit._

The couple parted and Jim gave a firm nod to the communications officer. “So, her first name’s Nyota?”

“I have nothing to say on the matter,” Spock answered and Jim clamped his mouth shut. Damn.

At Jim’s command, they felt the tingle of the transporter. A moment later, they materialized onto the chaotic deck of the Narada. Everyone started shouting in Romulan and Kirk dove for cover. Jim heard the sound of Spock’s phaser blasts, and weapons fire erupted in all directions. It was clear that the Romulans on the ship weren’t soldiers; their aim was terrible and Jim stunned several of them before finding Spock again. Jim noticed that Spock’s weapon was on the more deadly setting and he changed his phaser to cover the Commander as he went in search of the black hole device.

Once on board the odd-looking ship, Jim rushed past a confused Spock to peer out of the cockpit window.

“It appears that you have been keeping important information from me, Captain.” Spock got very close to Jim, his face betraying confusion.

Jim tried to sound like he didn’t know a thing. “You’re gonna be able to fly this thing, right?”

“Something tells me that I already have.”

Words about the elder Spock bubbled up in Jim’s throat, but he suppressed them. “Good luck,” he said and stepped away quickly. 

“Jim,” Spock said and he paused to glance back. Spock recited the statistics, a figure he had no desire to know. 

“It’ll work, Spock.”

“In the event that we do not succeed, please tell Uhura—”

“It’ll work.” Jim strode away, shifting his mind toward Pike’s rescue and resolutely ignoring a twinge of jealousy. Stupid mindmeld.

~*~

Jim fought his way past several more of Nero’s men before he found Captain Pike strapped to a table, his face bloody. With a gasp, he rushed to the man’s side. Pike groaned, his eyes fluttering open. “What are you doing here?” Pike’s voice was raw as Jim yanked at the bindings.

He couldn’t help the half-grin. “Just following orders, sir.”

Before he knew what was happening, Pike grabbed the phaser from his waistband and pushed Jim aside. Jim heard the weapon fire twice and he glanced behind him to see two more Romulans crumple to the ground. Jim gaped at his commander. He’d been tortured, but his aim was deadly. 

“C’mon, sir. Gotta get us out of here.” Jim gripped Pike around the waist, dragging him to standing. Reaching for his communicator, Jim flipped it open. “Enterprise. Scotty! Do we have transporter?” It had been Spock’s job to sever the drill. 

“Aye, Captain,” Scotty said. “Ready.” Jim grasped Pike more tightly around the waist.

Jim took a breath. “Ener—”

“Wait!” Pike shouted, knocking the communicator out of Jim’s hand.

“What the hell?” Jim gaped at him and watched the comm skitter onto a pile of debris.

“There’s someone else. We have to get him.” Pike leaned away from Jim, pointing to the other side of the room.

“What are you talking about?” He eased his grip on Pike’s waist and leaned back to stare at him. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Gunfire and shouting moved closer to the pair. 

“No. We have to get him. He’s Starfleet.” Pike, barely able to stand, broke away from Jim’s grip and took two staggering steps toward a darker section of the ship. Dull green lights showed only shadows.

Jim bent to swipe up his communicator. “Damn it. Let’s make it fast.” He supported Pike’s weight, stooping slightly under the tangles of wires. Pike grew heavier as they walked deeper into the green shadows.

“Where are you?” Pike called out, voice too weak for anyone to hear over the sounds of gunfire and alarms around them. “Can’t see anything…Jim. Have to get him.” Pike’s voice faded, growing breathy as his body began to pull toward the floor. 

Jim yelled out into the darkness, “Hello! Where are you? We don’t have time. Call out! We’re Starfleet.” 

Jim listened for a response, squinting his eyes to see any movement. Whoever it was, he wasn’t answering. The ship shuddered around them, and Jim’s pulse raced faster.

“Sir…,” Jim started, hauling Pike up to lean against him. “We’re running out of time.”

From far beyond them, he heard a groan. “I hear him.” Jim shouted toward the sound. “Call out again! Where are you?”

The man groaned again, giving a weak, “Here!” and then a deliberate clanging of metal on metal.

“There!” Jim said, ears and eyes trained on the location. 

“Get him,” Pike gasped one last time before Jim felt him collapse. Fuck!

“Captain Pike!” Jim shook him. Scanning around, Jim eased Pike down onto a low crate. “It’ll be faster without you, sir. Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he said to the unconscious man. 

Pike’s head lolled against a pillar, his arms and legs bent awkwardly, giving him the appearance of a broken doll. Jim hesitated one last time and touched his communicator. 

The clanging started again and Jim rushed toward it. All around him, the ship rattled as a fierce battle rocked the decking under his feet and water sloshed around his boots. Moments later he came to a cell and two hands wrapped around the bars. He yanked at the cell door. Locked.

“Move away from the door,” Jim shouted. When the man moved deeper into the shadows, Jim fired his phaser at the lock. A moment later, he kicked the door open. “Come on. Can you make it out?”

An older human man appeared at the cell opening, his thin face covered by a matted brown and gray beard, hair long and unkempt. “Oh, my god. How long have you been in there?”

Jim recoiled at the smell when the man moved closer. “God, let’s get you a shower.” Jim gripped him under the arm and pulled him to standing. He flipped open his communicator. “Scotty, stand by to transport three of us,” he said, already moving the two of them toward Pike. 

“Captain Pike,” Jim urged, pulling Pike up and against his other side. 

A louder, sharper alarm sounded throughout the Narada, and Jim shouted, “Scotty! Now! Get us the hell out of here!” 

In the second between his words and the tingle of the transporter, the three of them jerked backward, spinning slightly as something hit them. His mind blanked and then they continued to fall in the silence of the transporter room. He crashed down hard, doing his best to support the two men and keep them from hitting as hard. He smelled the stench of burned flesh and he scrambled up, staring down at them. Pike was groggy, turning his head and trying to focus on Jim. The other man was unconscious, a sharp burst of red blood and burned clothing spanning his ribs. Jim pushed his fingers against the man’s neck and feeling a pulse.

“Get medical down here now!” he shouted, even as he heard Bones yelling his name and bursting through the transporter room door. 

“Who the hell is that?” Bones exclaimed upon seeing the wounded man. He shot a wild glance at Jim, who just opened his hands wide and shook his head. Hell if he knew.

Pike groaned and struggled to sit upright. Bones scolded him, but Jim felt Pike’s strong fingers grip his wrist. “Jim. It’s Kirk. George Kirk. It’s your father. I don’t know how...” 

Jim jerked his hand away, staring at the filthy man on his transporter pad. “What? What are you talking about?” The red alert claxons added to the chaos in Jim’s mind. He must be delirious. 

“Nero…,” was all that Pike could say before he passed out again. 

“You’ll have to get your answers later, Jim. He’s badly injured.” Bones pressed a hypospray to Pike’s neck.

Jim gaped at the other wounded man, searching his face to find some clue. Shock and panic took his breath away.

“His vitals are a mess.” Jim watched, stunned, as Bones scanned the prisoner with his tricorder. He glanced toward the transporter control station. “Scotty, we can’t move him. Beam him to the emergency sickbay.”

“No, wait. Bones. Could it be true?” Jim hovered over the unconscious man, trying to make sense of it. “Dad?” The word didn’t feel right on his tongue. Not here, not ever. Frank hadn’t ever deserved that title and had never heard it. He pushed aside the dirty hair half-covering the man’s face. He couldn’t tell but he felt a surge of longing, as great as he’d ever known, for it to be true. 

Bones grabbed his shoulder. “Jim. Man, you’ve got to let me help him.” 

Jim’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, but he nodded and eased back on his haunches. 

“Scotty, do it now. Pike, too,” Bones said, moving away from the prone figures. A moment later, both men disappeared in a swirl of energy. Bones scrambled off the transporter pad and headed out the door.

“Bones!” Jim called, stopping Bones mid-stride. “You have to save him.” 

Bones just nodded and set off for sickbay. 

“Captain,” he heard from behind him, and turned sharply toward Spock. “The red matter. We must go.” 

“Oh, god, Spock. You’re okay.” Jim shook himself. “Right. The red matter.” He stood and blindly followed Spock to the bridge.

~*~

Jim rushed back he way he came, grateful for Spock by his side as he rallied his thoughts to the task at hand. The elder Spock’s words echoed in his mind, how he and Spock would have a future that would define them both. His tattered mind felt calmed by the Vulcan’s presence.

Chekov greeted the pair, informing them of the status of Nero’s ship. On the viewscreen, the black hole loomed wide, swallowing the burning, broken Narada into its maw. 

“Hail them now,” Jim instructed, moving to stand in front of the giant face of Nero, destruction and chaos in the background of the stuttering feed. 

Much to Spock’s dismay, Jim offered assistance to the crew of the dying ship. 

The Romulan refused. “I would rather suffer the end of Romulus a thousand times, I would rather die in agony, than accept assistance from you.” Nero’s voice dripped hatred and Jim felt a grim satisfaction. He wanted nothing more than Nero’s violent death. 

“You got it,” was all he said before he turned his back on the doomed man.

To Sulu, he said, “Arm phasers. Fire everything we’ve got.” 

Jim took his place in the chair and watched the long spider legs of the Narada break and crumble. His gut churned, the primal part of him satisfied to watch. Nero deserved to die; he had killed so many. He had destroyed Vulcan, had tried to do the same to Earth. More evidence of his evil was in sickbay - Pike and his…father. Jim still couldn’t fathom it and if it were true, God knows what had been done to him. Jim tried to swallow, felt his breath stuck in his chest, a heaving, suffocating feeling of entrapment. He stood from the chair, legs shaking. He couldn’t watch any more.

“Sulu, let’s go home,” he commanded and started toward the lift. He in place as an alarm sounded and red warning lights flashed on the screen. They were being pulled into the black hole. Jim sat abruptly back into the chair, his body bending with the pressure. 

“Why aren’t we at warp?” he asked, watching as the black hole grew closer. 

Jim shouted orders to the crew as the bridge ceiling crack under the strain. Scotty yelled back over the sounds of machinery squealing in engineering. With destruction nearing, Scotty’s rambles gave way to a possible solution. It was a long shot, but finally, with his ears popping at the sudden reverse, the Enterprise broke free. The ship hurtled out of the reaches of the black hole and the claxons quieted. They were safe. The Narada had been destroyed. 

Amazement and relief showed on the faces of his crew, and he slumped in relief. He turned to Spock, drawn to his gaze. Their eyes held for just a moment, and then the Vulcan nodded. They had survived.

“Spock, you have the conn.” Jim leapt from the chair and headed for sickbay.

~*~

Sickbay had never seemed so far away. Jim dashed around corners, glancing and only barely seeing the damage to his ship. The idea that his father could be on board made his heart race, gave him a queasy fluttering in his stomach. He kept in mind that it could be a lie. Something Nero had told Pike to trick him. But the part of him that had never known his father, that part screamed the loudest, carrying his feet faster until he was almost running, dodging crew in the corridors until he came to the entrance where he stopped cold.

Bones intercepted him as soon as he spied both Pike and the man who shouldn’t even be there. “Jim.” Bones put a hand out to stop him. 

“What is it? Am I too late? Is Pike okay?” Denial screamed in Jim’s head. 

“Pike’s fine. It’s the other one. He’s in bad shape. He was already weak, literally hundreds of scars, a dozen broken bones, some healed, some not. It’s amazing that he’s still breathing.” McCoy gave him the saddest expression and Jim balled his hands into fists. _No!_ “I’m sorry, Jim.”

“But is it him? Really…George Kirk?” Jim stared over Bones’ shoulder toward the man who could be his father.

“DNA says it’s a match. A goddamn miracle, if you ask me.” McCoy shook his head in wonder and stood to the side to allow Jim to pass.

Jim paused a moment, unable to think clearly. Then he walked slowly toward the dying man. His mind raced with all of the things he’d ever wanted to say to him, every event in his life that he wanted to recount, every moment of shame that he didn’t want to remember. It all came rushing back, leaving him tongue-tied and afraid. Afraid to speak and afraid not to. Afraid that he was going to die without ever knowing what Jim had accomplished. For the first time, he felt a deep pride in the work he’d done at Starfleet, and tears stung his eyes. He desperately wanted his father to see that.

Looking down, Jim touched the man’s swollen hand, his nails filthy and broken. “Dad,” he said, voice sounding younger than his years. “It’s me. It’s your son, Jim.” It felt surreal that he was doing this. His heart expanded in his chest, barely leaving room for breath. Jim looked up at the lights. “God, this is so fucked up.” He shook himself and forced his lungs to move. For a flash of a moment, he wished Spock were here. He needed to know how to do this, what to say. 

“Dad. You were alive and I didn’t know it. I mean, no one knew.” Jim found a stool and sat down, wrapping his fingers around his father’s hand. “The shuttle crews, they saw the Kelvin go into the Narada and explode. We…they never looked for you. I’m so sorry.” Jim let his forehead fall onto the back of his father’s hand. How could he explain? None of it made sense. 

For a long moment, Jim sat quietly, letting his thoughts spin into coherence. He straightened finally and spoke, trying to put things into words. “Mom…she did her best with me. I know she was sad to have to do it alone. She missed you so much and it must have been hard raising me.” Jim chuckled. “It wasn’t easy, believe me. I got into trouble, almost didn’t make it to Starfleet. Except I did and you have that man to thank.” Jim thumbed over his shoulder toward Pike’s sickbed. “He told me you saved eight hundred lives.” His voice cracked. “I just wish yours had been one of them.” That was the thought that brought Jim’s tears. The longing he’d tried run away from his whole life, came rushing to the surface. 

“Fuck,” he said, sitting back and wiping his eyes. “Bones?” 

“Yeah, Jim?” he asked, face guarded. 

“Can he hear me?” He couldn’t stand the idea that it was all for nothing. 

“He might. Don’t know. Can’t get inside his brain and ask him. But it’s possible.” Bones lingered for a second more and then walked away. Jim closed his eyes; he didn’t know either.

“Perhaps I can help.” At Spock’s voice, Jim’s eyes popped open. His first officer stood in the doorway, mouth turned slightly down.

“What do you mean?” 

Spock took a step closer, face once again impassive. “It is possible that I could assist you in communicating with your father while he is unconscious.”

Jim’s brow furrowed. “You can do that? Like help me talk to him?”

“Not precisely. I can meld with him to communicate telepathically. However, since his mental state is not known, there is a chance it will be ineffective. Nonetheless, I am willing to try.”

“That’s what you were doing with Nero’s guy on the Narada. That’s how you figured out where they were holding Pike and the red matter.” Jim remembered Spock kneeling over the downed man, his fingers touching his face. His own experience rushed back at him, the rapid-fire images that the elder Spock had pushed into his brain. And with it, the emotions swirling around his life with the other Jim Kirk. All of it made Jim trust Spock without question.

“Precisely.” Spock said, then waited with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Will it hurt him?” His own mindmeld with Spock hadn’t been painful, but it had been overwhelming and frightening. His father had suffered so much already that he didn’t deserve for his last untouched place to be disturbed. He wanted to express this to Spock, but worried about the other Spock’s warnings.

“No, it will not hurt him,” Spock answered. “It is known as the _katra-khynna_. It is common practice among my people when one of us is dying. We share grief in this way. It allows us to take a memory of the dying.” Spock’s face betrayed some of his own heavy grief, the loss of his mother, his planet. Jim’s own grief felt small. 

Jim looked at McCoy, lingering nearby, his face flat and serious. “Bones?”

“He’s only got a couple more hours, Jim.” 

“Spock…your mom, Vulcan. It seems so unfair.” Jim had to voice his feelings. He needed Spock to know. “What I said on the bridge. None of it was true.”

Spock held up a hand to stop Jim. “I will do this for you, Captain, as I did not have the opportunity with my own parent,” Spock leaned forward and stared at Jim, waiting for a sign.

Jim searched both of their faces. “What should I say?”

Spock answered, “It is perhaps better to think of it as memories or visions, not merely verbal communications. What do you want him to know of you?” His voice was patient, guiding Jim in this unknown territory. Even more, he felt the bond that the future Spock had told him about. A longing that lived alongside what he wished for his father. 

“I want him to be proud of me,” Jim said, emotion cracking his voice.

Spock nodded once. “Of that, I can assure you, he will be.”

Jim watched as Spock laid his fingers onto George’s face, and spoke softly in Vulcan, _“Nahp, hif-bi tu throks.”_ Jim clutched at his father’s hand, silently begging for it to work, to not let him be too far gone. 

Spock’s brow lifted slightly, his head cocked and he let his eyes drift closed. Jim watched Spock’s face, then his father’s, then back to Spock, thinking he might see more than he could. Desperation burned through him. 

Spock’s fingers left his father’s face a moment before he opened his eyes, slightly unfocused and looking to nowhere.

“Well?” Jim asked.

“Give me a moment.” Spock wavered slightly. 

Jim looked back at his father, then up at the numbers on the med panel above his head. They’d changed. Jim flashed a look at McCoy.

Bones spoke from the end of the bed. “Not long now, Jim.” 

“Spock, what happened?” Jim asked Spock in a rush. Time was running out and he needed more.

Spock straightened and resumed his stoic posture, hands clasped behind his back. “Often, the dying find peace when the _katra-khynna_ has begun. Your father’s mind was chaotic, possibly insane, but he held a constant. A memory that remained untouched, despite the torture Nero perpetrated. It was the memory of your pregnant mother. And a vision of you, Jim. Who he thought you would be. He held onto those thoughts while the rest of his mind became disorganized. I simply amended that memory to include who you are now. I believe it gave him peace.” 

“What did he say. Did he know you were there?” Jim gripped his father’s hand.

“It is unclear. The sensation of bonding…it is nonspecific, a sensation. I do believe his mind recognized a presence.”

“Was he afraid? Does he know I’m here?” Jim’s voice hitched. He felt like a child and the wave of longing crashed through him again. 

“Much emotion was present in your father’s mind, Captain,” Spock spoke, then pressed his lips together.

“What is it, Spock? What aren’t you telling me?” Spock looked pale, if that was even possible. Or maybe Jim was seeing things. This whole situation was beyond bizarre.

Spock didn’t answer and Jim pressed on.“Spock, you okay? Did it hurt you?” Jim gave McCoy a worried look, but the doctor just shrugged. 

“I can assure you that I will be fine. Meditation will allow me to order my thoughts and process the chaos of your father’s mind. I will be available at a later time, Captain, if you wish to discuss it further.”

Jim swallowed hard. “I…thank you, Spock. I don’t know what to say.” He glanced back at his father, wishing he had more time. Wishing he could know him now, as a man. 

“You are welcome. If you’ll excuse me, Captain, Doctor. I require time to meditate.” 

Feeling spacey, Jim nodded, “Sure. Okay.” He leaned over his father again, now touching him with both hands, finding dirty skin under the tattered sleeve of his shirt. The world seemed to disappear around them, leaving only Jim and his father. Together for the first and last time.

~*~

Jim stumbled to Spock’s quarters, ignoring concerned glances from his crew. His father, a man he had known for less than a day, had died. Jim’s mind was awash with grief, body aching and tired with a fatigue he had never known before. McCoy had told him to sleep, that he could see Spock when they had both rested, but he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t let go yet.

Spock’s door chimed and he called for Jim to enter. The room was dim and very warm and Spock was rising from a dark-colored mat in the middle of his quarters.

“Spock. I’m sorry. I’m disturbing you.” Jim felt weak, needy. Everything seemed upside down. 

“No, I have completed enough meditation for this time period. Come in, Captain.” Spock was dressed in black clothes with a wide purple-gold scarf draped around his shoulders. 

“How are you feeling after the meld? You’re okay?” Jim looked around Spock’s quarters. They were neat and tidy, as Jim would expect. But also welcoming in warm colors with Vulcan artwork and statues. He had not expected Spock to take the time. It felt…homey.

Spock motioned Jim to sit on the dark sofa and he slumped gratefully into it. “I assure you that I am fine. It is my understanding that your father-” 

“Gone. He’s gone. Never regained consciousness. Can you believe it?” Jim shook his head, the surreal feeling passing over him again.

“His injuries were severe.” Spock sat stiffly on the structured black leather chair across from the sofa.

“Yeah.” Jim nodded, pausing before speaking again. “You said we could talk more about my father, what he went through. I need to know, Spock.”

“Your father’s mind was disordered, moreso than the usual human mind. It is difficult to discern what he experienced. It is clear that he was tortured and provided with little food and medical care, but how he arrived on Nero’s ship remains a mystery.”

“What was it like at the end? Did he suffer?”Jim felt obsessed with every detail, a pressing urge to know if his presence had meant anything to the man he’d never known.

“Your father appeared to be experiencing no pain when I melded with him. I assume that Doctor McCoy’s analgesics were sufficient to ease his suffering.” 

“No, I mean was he afraid?” 

“Your father appeared to have some awareness that he was no longer on the Narada. He seemed to be experiencing a sense of…relief, if I may characterize it that way. It was most curious, but is logical considering that he was no longer experiencing the threat of torture. Although it is quite possible that he was simply relieved to be without pain.” Spock tilted his head, considering his words.

Frustration started to bubble up in Jim. He wanted more. “Spock.” Jim turned to face him. “Can you show me? Do you have his memories? Like you did in sick bay. The mindmeld.”

Spock’s eyebrow raised slightly. “I think that unwise, Captain. Your father’s memories are chaotic and you do not have the mental skills to shield yourself from their torment. It will be as if you were experiencing the same disorganization and the same memories of torture.”

“Forever? Will it last forever? Will I be able to know they’re not mine?” Jim’s desperation notched his voice louder. He didn’t care how much it hurt; he needed to know.

“It is difficult to say. I caution you, Captain. It could be a mistake. Especially now when I sense you are tired and grieving. Perhaps it would be wise to wait until you have rested. At that time, I will agree to consider your request.” Spock stood, signaling the end of the conversation. 

“Spock…” Jim stood. “It’s my father.” He stared into the Vulcan’s dark eyes, pleading, but Spock did not waver. 

“Unless you order me, I must refuse. It is my duty to protect your physical and mental health, Captain.” Spock’s posture tightened.

Some part of him recognized that Spock was right, but there was just a void that he didn’t know what to do with. It was a place where his father had never been, and then was, and then got taken away again. Jim blew out a breath. He was grateful for what Spock had already done for him. He wouldn’t require this of him. His shoulders slumped. 

“All right, Spock. Some rest and then we’ll talk again, okay?” 

“Very well, Captain. I-”

“Jim, please. You’ve been inside my father’s brain, for fuck’s sake. Call me, Jim.” Maybe he really did need some sleep.

Spock’s lips pursed slightly. “Very well, Jim. We can discuss this matter in the future.” Formal as ever, Spock stepped back, and Jim moved past him toward the door. 

“My dad…” Jim said, pausing and turning back. He reached out a hand and lightly grasped Spock’s wrist. His skin felt hot under Jim’s fingers. “I am glad you were with him there. Gave him some kind of peace. He deserved that.”

Spock swallowed. “It was my honor…Jim.” Spock stepped back and out of Jim’s grasp. “The customary human expression is, I am sorry for your loss. In my own words, I grieve with thee.” Spock’s expression seemed pained and Jim frowned. They’d both lost so much.

“Thanks, Spock.” Jim approached the door and it whispered open. “Good night.”

~*~

As the Enterprise limped back toward Earth on impulse power, Jim kept his distance from Spock. The thought of approaching him seemed like an intrusion, and frankly, Jim was a little unnerved by the idea of living with his father’s memories of torture and captivity. Maybe it was not meant for him to know. But still, there was more that he wanted. Something that would help fill the void that’d been ripped open by the knowledge that his father had been alive and suffering for so long. It was almost worse than his actual death, the idea that no one had known and no one had ever looked for him. It filled Jim with an impotent rage that eventually just settled into depression. If he’d been planetside, he’d have drunk himself into a stupor five times over. Now, though, he had to be a captain. He barely knew how to do that.

In the wake of the battle, Bones had ordered both he and Spock to mandatory leave in their quarters. “You’re both emotionally compromised. Paperwork only and stay out of trouble,” he’d said to Jim. The excellent beta shift was managing the initial repairs while Jim remained in his quarters, only emerging to visit Bones and one time to linger in the observation deck. His usual energy had been sapped away, even the congratulatory missive from Starfleet command hadn’t lifted his spirits. The fact that he’d saved Earth only barely registered. He hadn’t saved his father.

Finally, Jim had written his last report on the Narada and his father’s rescue. Writing the words had been oddly comforting, making a permanent record of the sacrifices his father had made, how he had survived a no-win scenario to see his son alive. Or so Jim believed. He had to believe his father had felt him. 

Jim glanced at the dark message indicator light on his console. The Enterprise had relayed information about the Narada and his father more than three days ago, yet he'd heard nothing from his mother. She'd been on Antares Minor when the planet suffered a severe meteor strike that had taken down communications planet-wide. It could be weeks until a message would reach her, and far too late to attend a service for his dad. With a frown, he straightened items on his desk and looked around blankly. He’d cleared his duty log, answered perfunctory messages from Starfleet, and had managed to choke down some dinner. There was nothing left to do.

Jim was grateful when his comm beeped. “Kirk here,” he answered.

“We’ve arrived at Starbase 1, sir. Docking procedures commencing,” Sulu said. The man had refused Jim’s gentle nudge to allow beta shift to man the helm until they reached Earth.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Proceed.” Jim clicked off the comm and tapped his fingers on his desk. His future felt unknown to him, the fire he’d had for command now dimmed. Automatically, as they often had since his father’s death, Jim’s thoughts strayed to Spock, wondering how he could cope with his grief, the loss of a planet and a people. Being Vulcan seemed awesome in that regard. For a moment, Jim also longed for a way to push the grief aside and keep working. 

With a shake of his head, Jim stood and took a centering breath. He’d seen his ship to the brink of destruction and he’d be on the bridge to bring her into port, Bones be damned. He straightened his shirt and strode out of his quarters.

~*~

The next couple of days were a blur that left Jim still feeling unsettled and lost. The crew of the Enterprise had disembarked, taking the three-week shore leave afforded by the necessary ship repairs. Within a day of arriving back on Earth, Jim had attended a quiet service for his father. The elite of Starfleet gathered around to pay their respects as Bones stood by his side. Spock stayed away from the clutch of mourners, preferring, it seemed, to linger near the vehicles that had brought them to the cemetery. Despite his distance, Jim was grateful for his presence.

With the solemn occasion behind him, Jim was now receiving Starfleet’s highest honor, pinned to his chest in front of the very same crowd that had come to see his reprimand about the Kobayashi Maru. Their applause gave him a brief sense of pride and he scanned the crowd for the dark uniform of Spock, needing his approval in a way a Captain should not. He was nowhere to be seen. 

As the crowds thinned, Jim excused himself and took the lower level corridors to the back exit. He crossed through the maintenance yard and the parking lot to approach the side entrance to his temporary quarters. Several times during the cocktail hour, he’d been asked about his choice for First Officer. Who would it be? When would he decide? Lists of names had been presented to him, but it had been Pike who’d reminded him that Spock would be the best choice. Jim frowned in disappointment. It was well-known that Spock intended to resign his commission to help his people rebuild. Jim didn’t blame him. It made sense. Pike had told him to try anyway: Commander Spock was worth the effort.

“Captain,” he heard behind him as he reached for the door. He swung around, blinking and surprised to see the elder Spock calling out to him.

“Ambassador Spock? What are you doing here?” Jim glanced around, worried about the effects of Spock’s presence on this timeline.

“I had a feeling you would not remain at the celebration. May I speak to you for a moment?” Spock approached. His face, familiar yet foreign, appeared softer and kinder than his younger counterpart.

“Yeah, sure. You want to go inside?” Pulling open the door, he held it for Spock to go through. 

Jim’s quarters were bare, save the clothing and books that were strewn on the floor and bed. Jim rushed around and scooped up pants and a shirt off of the burgundy sofa. “Have a seat. You want something to drink?” 

“No. But, please, sit with me. I have only a short time before I must leave for New Vulcan.”

“New Vulcan?” Jim asked, surprised. “There’s already another Vulcan?”

“Indeed. I have found a suitable planet on the edge of this galaxy where Vulcans will be able to live comfortably and rebuild our race.” 

“That’s great. Aren’t you worried about changing history by being here? I thought that was a bad idea?” Jim pulled a beer out of his refrigerator. 

“History has already been changed, my friend. My presence is not a threat.”

Jim sat near Spock, staring with a sense of confusion. “But you said…”

“I said nothing, Jim. You inferred.” Spock’s mouth twitched. Hell, it was almost a smirk.

“Oh.” Jim took a swig from the bottle. 

“It has come to my attention that my younger self has plans to join me on New Vulcan. While I have endeavored to change his mind, he, as I have been, is quite—”

“Wait. You met with yourself?” Jim’s voice squeaked higher. This whole thing didn’t make any kind of sense.

“Yes. As I was saying, the younger Spock seems quite determined to leave Starfleet. I cannot stress enough how important it is that he serve on the Enterprise with you.”

“But why? The future is already changed. Maybe his destiny is to go to New Vulcan.” Jim felt oddly protective of _his_ Spock’s need to help his race.

“It is theorized that the future will attempt to re-align itself or to align closely with an existing future. In that regard, there are universe-ending problems that you and _Spock_ will solve together. This is an aspect of this new reality that must continue to occur.”

“But…that doesn’t make any sense.” Jim shook his head and drank more beer. Maybe it would help.

“Trust me, Jim. This is a thing you must do. Convince Spock to join you. I believe his emotional state on the Enterprise is a source of shame for him.” Spock noticed Jim’s expression of confusion and held up a hand. “You forget, Jim. Spock is half human. I am half-human. Shame is a strong emotion and for Spock to lose control of his Captaincy is a difficult experience to master. I, too, made grave errors in my attempts at command. It cost the lives of many.” Spock dropped his weathered face and stared at the hands folded in his lap. “I have achieved peace with those memories, but it was not easy.”

“Okay, but what do you want me to do? He still doesn’t like me.” Jim leaned back heavily into the overstuffed chair. 

“You are mistaken, Jim.”

“Look, it’s different than what you had with your Jim,” he said. “I felt your emotions, Spock. The history you showed me…your Jim was not alive, was he?”

The elder Spock looked back at him, his face softening. He was so much more expressive than the younger version. It made Jim ache to know this side of his Spock.

“You sensed much when we melded. For that, I have regret. It was the quickest way to show you the events that brought Nero to your galaxy. It was not meant to reveal anything more.”

“Well…” Jim gave him a wide-eyed look.

“It was a necessary risk.”

“You two were more than friends. You’re saying that Spock and I…” Jim stood and paced, the bottle gripped in his hand. 

“I do not know what the future holds. You are both different people. Spock has lost his race, you never knew your father. It may be that you cannot achieve the status of _t’hy’la_. But you will become friends. Of this, you can be sure.”

“This is just fucking weird. You’re telling me what you’re going to do even though it’s not really you but it is.” Jim exhaled. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. He has something of mine, anyway.” 

“To what are you referring?” Spock asked.

“He has my father’s memories.”

~*~

The repairs on the Enterprise were nearly complete and the engineering crew was making adjustments on the bridge’s new viewscreen.

“Looking good, Scotty,” Jim said as he clapped his Chief of Engineering on the back. “How soon will the engines go back online for testing?” 

“Preliminary testing has been successful, Captain. Four days’ time and we’ll be ready to give her a go at warp. Aye, she’s a beautiful ship, isn’t she?” Scotty looked around, prouder than a new father.

“Good work, Scotty. The rest of the crew should be on board for testing by then. Carry on.”

“Aye, sir. But what about your first officer?”

Jim frowned. “Don’t you have things to do in engineering?”

“Aye, Captain.” Scotty scuttled off and Jim glanced at his PADD with unseeing eyes. He’d made five attempts to contact Spock, but all of his messages had been ignored. He knew for a fact that Spock was still in San Francisco to tie up loose ends for the graduating class. 

“Lieutenant Uhura, can I speak with you?” Jim turned to the lieutenant.

“Sir?” Uhura’s expression narrowed. Despite her desire to serve on the Enterprise, she still seemed to dislike him. Jim, however, had faith that he could win her over. He wasn’t letting the best xenolinguistics officer in Starfleet go due to a grudge. He was sure she could be professional.

“In my ready room,” Jim said and started to walk toward his small office.

He sensed her following him and waited until she walked through the sliding doors.

“Lieutenant, as you probably know, I’ve tried to contact Commander Spock a couple of times. He’s been refusing my comms.”

“Sir?” She looked genuinely surprised.

“You didn’t know?” Jim blinked at her. He figured she might have had a good laugh at his attempts.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Spock and I broke up.” She raised her chin defiantly.

“You what? Really?” He shook his head. “Fuck, is that why he won’t consider my offer?”

“Your offer?”

“First officer. Thought it would be obvious. What idiot captain waits so long to appoint a First Officer? You two can’t work together? Is the break-up why he won’t respond?”

“No, sir. I don’t…not that I know of.” She kept her expression guarded, but Jim could see the confusion.

“Shit.” Jim started pacing again. “The ship’s nearly ready and I don’t even have a second choice.”

“So, go find him.”

“Find him? You mean you agree?” Jim crossed his arms over his chest.

“Commander Spock is a brilliant officer. He deserves to be on the bridge of the Enterprise.”

“What about Vulcan? Rebuilding his race?”

“I don’t know, Jim. When we were…together, he made it known that serving on the Enterprise was his greatest wish. As unemotional as he seems, I believe he wants it.” She paused. “He wanted it. Vulcan and his mother… It changed him.” Uhura stared at Jim, measuring him for a long moment. “I think he is uncertain if he can ‘perform admirably’ to use his phrase. When you provoked him, he lost control. For a Vulcan...” Uhura shrugged.

Jim remembered the elder Spock’s words. “Yeah…someone else mentioned that fact to me, too.” 

“If that’s all?” Uhura’s tone was sharp and Jim blinked.

He waved her away. “Yeah. Dismissed.”

~*~

Jim finally decided he’d need to find Spock in person, just like Uhura had said. Having tried two more times to reach Spock, it was evident that if he didn’t act now, the chance would be lost. He’d received three messages from Starfleet command, waiting for his choice for First Officer. He couldn’t put it off any longer, and hell if he even knew why he’d delayed.

As he made his way to the transporter, Jim felt a sense of pride at how much had been accomplished in just a few weeks, the work that had gone into making the Enterprise ready for launch. With so many losses, the Enterprise was a vital part Starfleet's desire to explore the unknown parts of the universe. Young as he was, he had no doubt he could accomplish Starfleet’s mission.

“You have the coordinates?” Jim asked the transporter crew as he stepped onto the pad. 

“Yes, Captain. In three, two, one.” The tingle of the transporter shivered across his skin, replaced moments later by the warmth of Earth’s sun.

He received a few glances from cadets on the lawn for transporting directly onto the quad, but he just grinned. Had a reputation to uphold, didn’t he?

Jim moved quickly into the main academic building and headed for Spock’s office. The department secretary, a friend of Gaila’s, had given him the tip that Spock was packing up his office and preparing to leave for New Vulcan. That had been ten minutes ago and Jim believed he could still catch him.

He arrived, breathless, at Spock’s office door, finding it slightly ajar. Inside he heard the low resonance of Spock’s voice. Jim felt oddly attracted to the timbre of it. It was so similar to the elder Spock’s, younger, less rough, but still gave him a warm sense of calm. 

“I understand, Admiral,” Spock said, as Jim peeked into the room. “I will contact you in three months’ time, but do not expect a change in my position.” Spock’s office was nearly bare with neatly stacked boxes in the corner behind the desk. Spock was dressed in his customary black instructor uniform and Jim was struck by how attractive his ass looked in those pants. 

He rolled his eyes at himself. That mindmeld with other Spock had planted ideas…

“Thank you, sir. Live long and prosper.” Spock clicked off the comm and turned, eyes widening slightly to see Jim lingering inside the open door.

“By human custom, it is rude to eavesdrop,” Spock said, and placed a short stack of books into an open box.

“Yeah. Well, it’s rude to avoid returning calls, too.” Jim pushed the door wide open and stepped inside. The office smelled familiar, like dusty books and his academy days.

“As you can see, Captain, I am quite busy.” Spock was avoiding his eyes.

“Spock, what is going on?” Jim approached him warily.

“To what do you refer, Captain? I am packing my belongings which will be kept in storage until proper housing can be built on New Vulcan.”

“So, you’re really leaving Starfleet?” Jim snapped, feeling angry that Spock could just disregard him.

Spock slowed his movements, deliberately folding the flaps on a cardboard box as he spoke. “Captain, as you are doubtless aware, my duty to Starfleet cannot supersede my family’s needs.”

“Your father? He put you up to this?” Jim had heard rumors of the terrifying Sarek. 

“I am an adult, capable of making my own decisions. And I am not sure why I have to explain myself to you. I have satisfied the requirements of Starfleet and you are no longer my commanding officer.”

“Sounds like you’re running.” Jim was getting pissed. The cold shoulder was one thing, but he was spitting in the face of something he claimed to want.

“That is illogical. I am simply going where I am most required.” Spock half-turned away from Jim and began filling another box with odds and ends from his desk. 

“You’re required on the bridge of the Enterprise. With me,” Jim yelled at him. Something was going on that he could not understand. It was true that he didn’t understand what it meant to be Vulcan, but he lived by his gut.

“Your offer is appreciated and refused. Your consideration of my candidacy for First Officer is illogical. In your tenure as Captain of the Enterprise, you saved not only Admiral Pike’s life, but millions of human lives. There is a seventy-eight-point-seven percent probability that my Captaincy would have led to Earth’s destruction. It clearly shows that my skills would be better served by assisting the Vulcan people in rebuilding our culture.”

“What? What are you talking about? That doesn’t make sense!” Jim sputtered.

“It is perfectly logical, Captain. Do you need me to explain it to you again?” This time Spock looked directly at Jim, his face impassive as always. 

How could he be this way? How could he throw away everything? “Spock, that’s crazy. Maybe you would have gone back to Earth, but you could have stopped Nero. Who knows what would have happened! You followed regulations. Starfleet’s orders!” 

“Nonetheless, Captain. My shuttle leaves at the end of the week.” Unless Jim was hearing things, there was a note of resignation in Spock’s tone. The Vulcan lifted the last box and turned away, his back stiff.

“Spock, listen. Hear me out, would you? I don’t know what I’m doing out there. I need a first officer who will stand up to me, who will cite regulation, but also someone who will follow me even when I do something crazy. You’re not afraid, Spock. You followed me onto Nero’s ship. Hell, you made the plan to get Pike and the red matter. You blew up the Narada. You flew that damn ship right into her heart. You couldn’t have even known that Scotty would beam you out. Don’t you get it? I need you. Not Starfleet, but me. Jim Kirk. Please, Spock, reconsider.” Jim rambled on and on and finally clamped his mouth closed, feeling like a fool. Spock wasn’t even listening.

With a frustrated growl, Jim turned on his heel and left. The older Spock had been wrong. It was hopeless.

~*~

At the end of his fourteen-hour shift, Jim was tired but in good spirits. With only two days left before the Enterprise’s departure, there was still much to do. The three weeks of shore-leave prior to reporting for duty had given him time to gather himself, speak to his grandparents, and to have some much needed fun. He’d even gotten a chance to get drunk out of his mind. Bones had been there all the while, like a mother hen, reciting the dangers of Terulian brandy on the central nervous system. That hadn’t, however, stopped the Chief Medical Officer from drinking some himself.

Jim had received word from Admiral Pike that his First Officer would be along within the day, but he had yet to arrive. Frustrated with his encounter with Spock, Jim had chosen Commander Ben Frazier to be his First Officer. Ben was a well-respected human who’d been assigned as the First Officer of the USS Hood prior to its destruction by Nero. Frazier’s life had been spared by a freak accident just a week before Nero’s attack when a broken leg had forced him to stay planetside. Everyone had been calling it a lucky break. Ben, however, was eager to join a new command team. The Hawaiian native was about ten years older than Jim, with a young spirit, and Pike thought the two would work together well. It didn’t quite take the sting out of Spock’s refusal, but Jim had to let it go. Different futures, right?

With a yawn, Jim changed out of his uniform and into sleeping shorts and a t-shirt. He marked his comm as off-duty, and crawled into his bunk. Next to his bed was a stack of books, five to be exact, that he’d been dying to read and would have if the Kobayashi Maru hadn’t taken up all of his time. As Captain, Jim had brought an obnoxious number of books on board with him, insisting that the crew convert one of the larger communal areas into a library. He loved the feel of old books in his hands and tonight, a murder-mystery awaited him.

As a kid, Jim had read lots of science-fiction from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, chuckling at the futuristic predictions and fostering his growing yearning to leave Earth. Now that he’d achieved his dreams, a noir detective romance was right up his alley. Twenty pages in, his door chime rang. He blinked, refocusing his eyes across the room. 

“Come,” he called out.

The door slid open and Jim’s mouth fell open to see Commander Spock at his door. “Spock? What are you doing here?” Jim rose, dropping his book onto his bed.

“Am I disturbing you, Captain?” Spock lingered in the corridor, eyes briefly scanning Jim’s attire.

“No, come in. I just — why are you here?” Jim scrubbed a hand across his eyes. Maybe he was seeing things.

“Thank you, Captain.” Spock inched through the door, stiff and formal.

Jim stood expectantly, confused as hell. Spock looked damn uncomfortable, too, and Jim was gratified. The Vulcan owed him an explanation.

“It is my understanding that you have appointed a First Officer.”

“Yeah. My first choice refused.” Jim smirked, leaning back against the wall separating the sleeping area from the common area.

“In that case, I respectfully submit my application for Chief Science Officer. The position is held by Commander Gan, my former student. While she is scientifically qualified for the position, her inexperience in managing a science team will be a detriment to your mission ‘to seek new life and new civilizations.’” Spock held Jim’s gaze.

“And so you’re here in person to rescue me from my bad decision-making? Sounds about right.” Jim gave a bitter chuckle and banged the wall behind him. 

“Your tone conveys a negative sentiment.” Spock lifted his brow. “Should I consider that your answer, Captain?” 

Jim closed his eyes for a long second. He’d forgotten how frustrating the Vulcan could be. “Spock, you can’t just march onto the Enterprise and ask for a position I’ve already filled. You’re way overqualified anyway.” Jim bounced off the wall and asked the replicator for a glass of water. 

“You want anything?”

“No, thank you, Captain.”

“For God’s sake, Spock. We’ve been in battle together. You’re in my private quarters. Call me Jim, would ya? When we’re off duty, it’s Jim.” Jim drained his glass, feeling suddenly tired. Maybe Spock as his first officer would have been a terrible idea anyway.

“As you wish, Jim,” Spock gave a short nod.

“Fucking hell, sit down, Spock.” Jim himself slumped onto the sofa with his legs sprawled across its length.

He watched as Spock folded himself onto the edge of a chair opposite Jim.

“You want to tell me why you’re really here? Why you changed your mind.”

Spock paused a moment and then spoke. “Cap—Jim, my presence here is actually quite illogical. As a Vulcan, it is illogical to request assignment to a position that is already filled. The demotion of Commander Gan would be unprecedented and would appear as a mark on her record. My request…” Spock seemed unable to continue and Jim squinted his eyes at the Commander.

Continuing, Spock’s voice held a note of confusion, “My counterpart, whom you have already met, advised me ‘to put aside logic and do what feels right.’ In this regard, I must admit, I am uncertain what feels right.” Spock glanced at Jim then away again. Such a human gesture that Jim caught his breath.

“In being unable to surmise what felt ‘right,’ I instead endeavored to determine what ‘felt wrong.’ In so doing, I discovered that allowing the Enterprise to leave without me aboard ‘felt wrong.’ I wish to be part of your crew, Jim.” Spock stared right at Jim, eyes intense.

Jim stared back at the Vulcan, feeling once more the connection between them, the undeniable feeling that they were meant to serve together, become friends, maybe even something more. Jim pulled his legs off the sofa and planted them on the floor with his elbows on his knees, and faced Spock. “I always wanted you here, Spock. I might be full of shit sometimes, but what I said in your office was real. I need you on this ship.” Jim raked his hands over his face. “Fuck.” It was a mess.

“Commander Frazier will be an adequate First Officer,” Spock said, as if he could read Jim’s mind.

“But he’s not you. Fuck, I don’t know. Yes, of course, you’re on the crew. Please. I’ll…I don’t know. II'll create a new position. Science Consultant?” Jim fell hard against the stiff back of the sofa.

“My request is causing you distress, Jim.” Spock’s expression held more concern than Jim expected.

“No. Just new to this and trying to figure out what to do. In the end it doesn’t matter. You’ll be on the Enterprise. That’s all that counts.” Jim felt tension loosening in his chest. He’d come to terms with Spock’s absence, but hadn’t realized just how good it would feel to have him back.

“Thank you, Jim. My…lack of logic in this regard appears to have been the proper course.” Spock stood.

Jim stood hesitantly, feeling an unwillingness to let Spock leave. “Listen, why don’t you stay. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. You know, about my dad.” Jim let the words drift out, unsure that he actually wanted to do anything more than get Spock to stay. 

Raising a brow, Spock nodded. “As you wish.” He sat back down.

“Look, I don’t know what to ask. But I did want to thank you for coming to the funeral. Of all the people there, you knew him best, or at least what he had become after Nero.” Jim flinched at his own words. The depravity of the Romulan was something he would never understand.

“Your father had been driven insane by torture. But it also saved him. It dissociated his mind from the terror of what he had experience. I believe that he had constructed an elaborate fantasy life that consumed his conscious mind.”

“What do you mean?” Jim frowned, eyebrows digging deep into his forehead.

“In the rare cases in which Vulcans have become insane, it is observed as a splitting of the mind. It is called the _riyeht-kashik_. Vulcan healers, in their initial attempts to reunify the separated parts of an insane mind, found that once the parts were joined, it became unbearable for the sufferer. Suicide was often the result.”

Jim’s eyes widened. He’d never heard of a Vulcan committing suicide. 

Spock continued, “It was then determined that the insanity was the result of the Vulcan mind attempting to cope with a terrible circumstance akin to your father’s experiences. By joining separate areas of the mind, the healers had inadvertently ensured that the Vulcan was no longer able to cope with the pain. Thus, ending life was the logical choice.”

“So, dissociation? Like when kids are abused and they start to act like different people. I’ve read about it.” Jim shook his head in disbelief. “Is that what happened to my dad?” 

“While I am not a trained healer, my research after melding with your father gives me a seventy-two-point-three percent probability that his mind fractured to save itself.”

“Was that what you saw? With my mom and me?” Jim tried to imagine what he could have seen.

“Precisely. The dominant thought pattern was a disorganized array of fantasies about your mother and father raising you on Earth. Your father’s image of your face and personality were not entirely accurate.” Spock regarded Jim.

Jim chuckled. “No, I bet not. He and my mother were rule followers. Loved Starfleet and each other. That all went to hell because of Nero.” Jim felt the bitterness rising in his chest. “What do you do with it, Spock? All of that grief about your mother?” 

“I meditate, Jim. But that is the Vulcan way. I predict that your way is different, possibly involving copious amounts of alcohol and sex with unbonded humans.”

With a snort, Jim started to chuckle. “Yeah, right on one count, although Bones didn’t let me out of his sight for more than a day during shore-leave. 

“Doctor McCoy is your friend.” 

“Yes, Spock. And so are you.” Jim held his eyes.

“Thank you, Jim. As I have little experience with human ‘friends,’ I must assume that my feelings toward you also constitute friendship.”

Jim gave Spock a wide grin. “Good to hear, Spock. Now let’s figure out where I’m going to put you.” He stood and walked to his desk and flicked on the monitor. 

This was going to be a great mission.


End file.
